


Marcel's Way

by sighing



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gen, Harry Styles - Freeform, Liam Payne - Freeform, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, Niall Horan - Freeform, One Shot, Short Story, Zayn Malik - Freeform, best song ever, bse, i cried while writing it basically, its sad, kind of??, leeroy - Freeform, marcel - Freeform, one direction - Freeform, veronica - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 01:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sighing/pseuds/sighing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcel's perspective of the Best Song Ever music video.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marcel's Way

**Author's Note:**

> i almost cried while writing this bc marcel is so adorable :( read at your own risk

Marcel had begun the day absolutely ecstatic. He was going to be meeting his favorite band: One Direction. Not only that, but he got to present their new movie ideas. He got to work with them. He had been working on the presentation for their new movie for almost five months, and he had made sure to pick out the styles he thought fit them.

This was going to be the best day ever.

 

He was almost too afraid to look at the five boys-- what if he looked weird? What if they thought he was strange? He doubted they would think this, however; after all, he had worn his favorite sweater and fixed his glasses just for the boys.

After waiting for a bit for the Boss to call him in, he heard "Marcel, Marcel!" through the door and immediately opened it, stumbling over his feet while trying to hold the posters and turn the door handle at the same time.

"Hi," he said excitedly while averting his eyes. He had caught a glimpse of Zayn-- agh! That jawline! He decided it was best if he didn't look straight at the boys, but rather off to the side, so he didn't get as nervous. The worst thing that could happen was that his voice would shake or stutter.

The Boss continued to introduce Marcel, and he was thankful to have the attention off of him for a bit as he clumsily set up the poster stand.  
"Really nice to meet you guys, I'm a huge fan," he said shakily. At least I'm not stuttering, he thought.

"Cute as a button, every single one of you!" he ranted, making sure to point at each one of them. He dared to look at them, but realised that their faces displayed a displeased expression like "who the hell is this?". Marcel cleared his throat out of nervousness-- he had seen that face too much in high school. He cleared his head and tried to remember what he had written on his notes for the presentation.

"First scene," he began, "I'm thinking a massive dance number. I'm thinking a hundred dancers, fireworks, deluxe," he said excitedly, making waving motions with his hands. He could picture it in his head: five spotlights, shiny outfits, sparkly decorations...

He hesitated as he looked at their unsure faces. "Dance is just... so hot right now!" he reassured them. He had it all planned out. It was going to be perfect.   
"I want you to meet Leeroy," continued Marcel. He couldn't wait for the boys to meet Lee; he had all the same ideas as Marcel had. "He's going to be your choreographer! Leeroy!" he called as he opened the door, humming a bit out of sheer nervousness. He hoped the boys and his Boss liked it so far.

Marcel grinned as Leeroy talked about the choreography, and even sashayed his hips a little when Lee started dancing (Marcel had always considered himself to be a decent dancer).  
Leeroy continued to tell them their individual parts, when he heard Louis say something. 

"We'd never do that," said Louis, shaking his head.

What? What did he mean? This dance was perfect, and Marcel assumed that the boys would love it just as much as he and Leeroy did.

"Well, that's just something for us to work on," he quickly said, hurrying Lee out the door before things got awkward. "Okay, thanks Leeroy," he said, ushering the blond boy out the door.  
He decided to continue to another topic. "So, let's think of some styling options for the film," he said, picking up his favourite poster. "Personally, I think this one is the one," he said as he placed the picture on the stand. He eagerly looked at the boys for their reaction. All he got was blank faces.

"Absolutely not," said Harry.

"We'd never wear that," said Louis. The other boys sported similar skeptical faces.

"Alright, alright, how about... this one?" he asked them, holding up his back-up design. If the first style hadn't clicked with them, this one surely would. "It tested really well!"

"No," said Liam curtly. 

Why didn't they like any of the designs? Marcel was beginning to feel a bit embarrassed because of their negative reactions. He thought they would have loved these ideas.

"Never in a million years," said Zayn, shaking his head.

Marcel felt a bump rise in the back of his throat. He couldn't believe they didn't like these designs-- he had stayed up almost all night working hard on them and picking the exact styles he saw fit the boys. Now the boys were making him feel ridiculous and unsuccessful. He even saw the Boss shaking his head in disgust. 

Tears formed beneath his eyelids, but he willed himself not to start bawling in front of his favourite people ever. Instead, he put on a brave face and held up more and more designs, each one getting a worse and worse reaction from the boys. After three or four more options, he was physically willing himself to turn the corners of his mouth up to what somewhat resembled a smile. He felt like crying right then and there when he saw Louis laugh a little in disgust at the purple design.

Even the Boss was laughing now. The more designs he showed them, the worse the urge to cry became. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the tears. It was pretty hard to forget, though, when there were giggles and laughs of disgust coming from his favorite artists.

Harry then got up and started yelling at the Boss. What was going on? This was unheard of! One Direction had always been portrayed as carefree and friendly... were they really this rude?  
Marcel broke down when Harry started shamelessly flirting with their attractive female assistant. Marcel walked to the corner of the room and started crying-- not quiet weeping, but loud, snotty uncontrollable sobs that made his face blotchy and his skin red. He covered his face in shame as he continued to bawl.

As he kept crying, he barely realised how the boys were tearing apart the office. Great, now Marcel was going to have to clean up the mess-- if he even kept his job, that is. After all that had happened, he was probably going to be fired.

He heard loud laughter and as he looked up, he saw that the posters that he had carefully organized and prepared were being thrown across the floor and stepped on ruthlessly. This only caused him to sob louder, hot embarrassing tears streaming down his face.

The boys continued to make fun of the poster styles, laughing and pointing at Marcel's hard work. Books and glasses were being knocked and ripped off shelves, and Marcel could only close his eyes and wait for it to be over.

"Stop being a coward!" said Liam, nodding at Zayn, who was also holding a poster. They both ran up to Marcel and hit him on the head with his own artwork. Harry punched a hole right through his favorite design that had taken him at least two hours to perfect. He couldn't help but shake and cry and bawl his eyes out.

"Try some of that juice," said Louis with a smirk. "It'll make you feel better."

Marcel obeyed, rubbing his eyes. Was Louis trying to be kind to him...? No, he thought, as he saw Louis tip a wastebasket full of paper over. He found his way over to the glass of juice through heavy tears and took a sip. EW! That was definitely not apple juice. It tasted disgusting. Stupid juice, stupid Louis, stupid everyone.

After a few minutes, the five boys ran out of the room chanting something and the Bosses followed. 

Marcel was left alone in the utterly damaged room, thinking about how in the world he was going to clean up all the broken glass and shredded papers.


End file.
